


Watching Over You

by 1AbbyNewth5



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Sleeps (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley are Married (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Comfort, Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Nightmares, Nighttime, No Plot/Plotless, Other, Perspective Switching, Short One Shot, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), i'm SOFT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1AbbyNewth5/pseuds/1AbbyNewth5
Summary: It’s a rarity to spot Aziraphale asleep.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Watching Over You

It’s a rarity to spot Aziraphale asleep. For Crowley, he’d go to sleep too quickly to see if Aziraphale ever did. He’d usually see Aziraphale sitting next to him in bed with a small book in his hands before shutting his eyes. He’d wake up to find Aziraphale’s spot empty, but he’d hear him roam around the cottage. The number of times Crowley _would_ spot Aziraphale asleep however, was really just a few times.

It was always when Crowley would wake up in the middle of the night, either from a bad dream, or if he wanted to drink something to get him back to sleep. He’d look down next to him to see Aziraphale’s back facing him, lying under the blankets peacefully.

It was only two or three minutes of Crowley being out of bed just to get his fix, only for him to come back to the bedroom to see Aziraphale gripping at the blankets. His face would be twisted into some sort of grimace, as if he was trying not to cry or scream. Only small noises would come out of him, as he clings onto the comforter blanket.

Crowley couldn’t stand to see him like that. He immediately sat right back down on the bed, and gently reached out to squeeze Aziraphale’s shoulder with his hand. With his eyes still closed, Aziraphale’s face would stir at the sudden feeling of Crowley’s hand on him, and his breathing would quicken, as if his first thought was danger. Eventually, though, his face would soften, and his grip onto the comforter would go loose. Crowley smiled at this. He’d carefully get Aziraphale’s arms back underneath the blankets, and soon, the angel would be nestled deep enough that only his head would poke out.

Crowley found himself doing this a few more times a month. It only happens whenever he’s leaving the bedroom, as if Aziraphale was that desperate for company… or there was some kind of thing where in Aziraphale’s dreams, when Crowley would leave in real life, he would in the dream… or something. Crowley wasn’t so sure, so he didn’t want to ask. He just continued to do what he could to comfort Aziraphale, because he knew it was needed.

One night, Aziraphale was doing what he usually would do whenever Crowley would leave the room. He was clutching onto the blankets and gritting his teeth. His breath was hitching, and his free hand reached out and grabbed the air in different random directions, looking for some source of help, but there was none.

With his eyes shut tightly, a sharp tensing shock went through his shoulders, and Aziraphale bolted awake with a yelp, gasping for air. He looked around himself, quickly realizing that he was safe, in the bedroom. He was breathing hard, and he’d be damned if he was going to cry. He didn’t want Crowley to see him like this, not after all the help he has given him… Speaking of which, where exactly _is_ Crowley?

Aziraphale kept his hand on his chest, while the other hand was scrounging around for Crowley on the blankets, a hand, hair, his shirt, snake scales, anything… It was very dark in the room, and the moonlight had _just_ hit through the window.

The angel glanced to the door, seeing it slightly cracked open. Oh. Crowley is downstairs. After taking in multiple slow deep breaths, Aziraphale got up from the bed (without putting his slippers on, Aziraphale, how could you?!), and he went downstairs to meet the demon in the living room, staring out one of the windows. Aziraphale’s whole self felt relieved just by the image of him. He noticed a mug in Crowley’s hand as he slowly walked up to him, who instinctively turned around to look back at him. He had a slight surprised look on his face. “Hey.”

Aziraphale forced a small smile, and waved. “Hello.”

“What’re you doing up?” Crowley asked. He let Aziraphale stand next to him in front of the window.

“Well…” Aziraphale’s fingers fiddled together, and he looked down at his feet before looking back up at Crowley, though he probably already knew the answer before Aziraphale could say it.

“Bad dream?” he asked. Aziraphale paused, and held onto his arms nervously.

“Was I talking?” he asked quietly.

Crowley shook his head. “Heard you scream. Sorry I didn’t help you this time.”

Aziraphale’s face grew warm at that for some strange reason.

“You probably just wanted a drink,” he said. “No issue as to why you shouldn’t.”

He heard a small huff before Crowley drank out of the mug. There was an awkward silence that filled the cottage, and Aziraphale rocked himself from the heels of his feet. “What are _you_ doing up, Crowley?”

Crowley simply shrugged, answering before he took another sip of his drink. “Wanted something to get back to sleep.”

Aziraphale leaned in to peek into the drink in Crowley’s mug. It looked like some kind of drink he hasn’t seen before. “And that is…?”

Crowley gestured the mug to the angel. “Coffee and tea.”

Aziraphale made a face to the demon. A face that could truly describe the feeling of, “What the hell does that mean, why did you do this, and how am I married to you?”.

“You wanna try it?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale opened his mouth, only for nothing to come out. He glanced at the mug and back into Crowley’s eyes multiple times.

His hands reached out. “Okay.”

Crowley handed him the mug, and Aziraphale stared down at the weird new brown liquid inside of it. He gulped, and held the mug up to his lips, bracing himself. He held the drink in his mouth for a solid three seconds, only for him to swallow the drink down, shuddering.

Crowley smirked. “You don’t like it?”

Aziraphale’s nose scrunched, but he kept his voice light, not wanting to sound rude. “What do _you_ think?”

“Oh, it’s horrible,” Crowley took the mug out of the angel’s hands, and chugged the drink down in one fell swoop. “I _love_ it.”

Aziraphale just stood there, with his hands frozen in the position where he held the mug. He stared at Crowley in silence with his mouth gaping. “I don’t understand what happens in your brain.”

Crowley shrugged again. “Yeah, neither do I. That’s what’s so fun.”

Crowley set the mug down on the coffee table, when he really should have just put it in the sink, and he and Aziraphale stood in silence yet again. Then, Aziraphale covered his mouth with his hand to hide a big yawn. Crowley’s eyebrow quirked. “Ah, see? It worked.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Aziraphale lied with his voice muffled by his hand still over his mouth. “I just wanted you to come back to bed.”

Crowley’s smirk widened playfully. “Yessir.”

The two went right back upstairs.

Crowley leaned on the window sill, watching Aziraphale lie back down on the bed. Moonlight seeped through the walls and flooded over the bed with Crowley’s shadow.

“Why aren’t you coming to bed?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley sighed.

“Just letting the drink kick in,” he answered. He chuckled as the angel squirmed uncomfortably.

And with that, Aziraphale has tucked himself in, though facing the light of the window, his eyes squinted at the big night light from way outside. “Crowley?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you move a bit to the right?”

Crowley moved the opposite direction.

“ _My_ right,” Aziraphale corrected, and Crowley did so. “Thank you.”

Crowley pulled a thumbs-up from his pocket.

With Crowley’s shadow as his shade, Aziraphale’s face instinctively softened, and he quickly went back to sleep with ease. Crowley continued to watch him, as he snapped his fingers to make one of the window’s curtains to slide in front of the moonlight.

The demon got himself underneath what was left of the blankets, because Aziraphale was clearly hogging them, but Crowley knew it was unintentional… or maybe it wasn’t, and he was second guessing. Crowley lied down close to Aziraphale, with their noses almost touching.

Crowley could easily go right back to sleep right now, but he doesn’t, for some reason. He stared at Aziraphale, who was breathing silently, evenly. It was an oddly comforting sight to Crowley. Aziraphale was always so anxious, so timid, so shy… so seeing him in a peaceful state feels so… nice. It was a nice change.

The demon lied there for Somebody knows how long, watching Aziraphale sleep quietly. Then, the drink kicked in. Crowley’s eyelids felt droopy, but he tried to keep them open as much as he could just to hold his gaze at the angel. It felt like his lids were being pulled down by magnets.

Right before he could feel himself falling asleep, Crowley dug down underneath the blankets, and pulled out Aziraphale’s hands. If Aziraphale were awake, Crowley would know that he would appreciate that gesture.

With Aziraphale still asleep, Crowley held onto his angel’s hands, and squeezed them gently. Only keeping his eyes on Aziraphale, Crowley quickly fell asleep. The last thing he saw before his eyes shut was a small smile on Aziraphale’s face.

Nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Tried to experiment with writing a bit less dialogue in this one. There is still dialogue, obviously, but you know... that's why it's called an experiment. I was originally gonna write Aziraphale having a nightmare while Crowley was lying beside him, and Crowley would comfort him until he calmed down, but I thought ending this fic all peaceful-like was good enough. No tears allowed in this fic!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are much appreciated, as always. - Abby


End file.
